


Mountains out of Ant Hills

by Iyearnforaplotadvancement



Category: Ant-Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Canon Compliant Action, Character Study, Drabbles, F/M, Gen, Romantic Comedy, Romantic Fluff, time skip
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2019-11-01 03:20:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17859281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iyearnforaplotadvancement/pseuds/Iyearnforaplotadvancement
Summary: A series of drabbles set before, during, and after Ant-Man/ Ant-Man and The Wasp.





	1. Parent's Night Interrupted, 2016

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, I'm posting some one-shots I wrote over 2017. I hope you guys like them. Please leave me a comment I love reading your feed back!

“Please Ms. Hope?”

That was all Cassie had to say to make Hope van Dyne come to Parent’s Night at the girl’s school. Of course having that same cheeky lopsided grin like her father helped.

Scott and Maggie didn’t agree on much after their divorce, but they did agree that Cassie was their whole world and that Scott really should get a better job. Where the latter was concerned, Maggie didn’t like what was going on, but where the former was concerned, she loved it.

She and Scott had taken turns showing up to the family events for Cassie, most of the time she and Paxton showed up with her. Sometimes Scott did. But right now, neither Maggie nor Scott could show.

And that's where Paxton and Hope came in.

Two adults with demanding jobs and an even more demanding little girl.

“Van Dyne you’d be doing us a real favor,” Paxton said, resting his hand on Cassie’s shoulder.

It was odd, admittedly, to see them both in her office at the end of the work day. She would have never thought she’d see either of them there, standing with big eyes and clasped hands. Well, Cassie she could see actually, because that’s just how she asked for things. But Paxton? Never.

Hope had already been sold on Cassie’s request. But she pretended to be busy anyways.

“When is it?” She asked in her voice she used in board meetings.

“Friday,” Cassie said, coming over to the desk to rest her tiny hands.

“What time, honey?” Hope asked, turning to her computer to open her calendar. She was free that whole weekend, but she’d be damned if she would let this little girl know that she was at her mercy. Damn kids are so convincing, Hope thought she should bring some to trade deals.

“Six at night,” said Cassie. “It’ll be fun, there’s gonna be a Ferris wheel and a carnival, and a play, and-.”

“-I think she gets it, sweetie,” said Paxton.

Cassie looked back at Hope with her giant brown eyes she inherited from her dad’s side of the family. Hope hid a smile, after typing in some nonsense into her calendar and looked at Cassie.

“It was a tight squeeze, Miss Cassie. But after careful consideration I managed to fit you in for six on Friday,” Hope said with an easy smile and then shot it at Paxton.

The man looked as if he’d finally dropped a weight he’d been carrying all day. Hope chuckled a little and then shut down her computer, closing up the office for the day.

She saw them out as Cassie went off on a long talk about the biology of unicorns and why exactly their poop was the way it was. Hope had just politely nodded and smiled with what Cassie was rambling about, finding it just a little funny how much passion she spoke with.

Cassie and Paxton parted ways with Hope and she drove home in contemplative silence. A little hand of the past reached out and touched her as she remembered a bereft and curt phone call to her dad just before Christmas.

_No, he wasn’t coming to pick her up this year, Hank told her, he was busy and the house was a mess._

Hope felt herself get a little breathless as the bitter tears stung her eyes and she let out a shaky breath.

 _What’s past is past_ , she reminded herself, _shame your dad didn’t research time travel…_

The low pinging of her car’s hands free calling system dragged her out of her thoughts. She glanced quickly at the car’s heads up screen. Her face brightened as she answered a call from Pepper Potts.

 

“Vir-,”

“Hey, you got Stark on the line,”

Hope’s smile fell.

“Anthony, why are you calling me from Pott’s number?”

“Cause you’ve been dodging my calls, Ms. van Dyne,”  
  
“My father does not want to speak with you, Stark,”

“Yeah-see-but I really feel like the ‘no-speaking’ schtick is not a viable option at this point,” Tony said in his usual unbothered tone.

“Oh really?” Hope taunted.

“Yeah really, tell her Pep,”

“Hello Hope,” Pepper said in her usual bright tone.

“Ginny if he’s holding you hostage just say the word. I can have an extraction team there in seconds,”

Pepper chuckled, making Hope smile.

“Unfortunately the only thing he’s holding hostage right now is my paycheck,”

“-and her heart,” Tony added.

Hope could feel the eye roll from Pepper, even through the phone.

“Regardless, I would like to meet with Pym. There is something to be gained if you’re willing to comply,” Pepper said, getting a little more serious. “This isn’t a threat, Hope,” Pepper assured.

Hope sighed, “Our company is a big risk right now,”

“Not something so big that Stark Industries can’t cover,”

“What about our stock failures? Our investors have all but skipped town. We’re under an audit by the U.S. government. Not to mention the PR nightmare Cross left us in,” Hope reminded.

“I know a thing or two about PR nightmares,” Pepper said, earning a scoff from Tony in the background, “And as for the other problems, that’s nothing we can’t fix,” said Pepper confidently.

“All this business talk is kinda doing it for me, ladies,” Tony joked, earning a sharp slap from Pepper.

Hope’s mouth became a taut line and she shook her head, “If this was just me Virginia, you know I’d do it in a heartbeat,” Hope rolled her shoulders, “As long as the old man’s kicking, he’s still has last say,”

“You voted him off the board, though,” Tony butted in.

Pepper had said something to Tony in an admonishing tone and Tony relented. “Keep it in your back pocket then,” Pepper said, “We’re more than happy to come to compromise,”

“I will, thank you,” Hope replied.

“And call more often, I need someone else to talk to beside Tony all day,”

Hope snorted, “Will do, Ginny,”

Pepper hung up after, leaving Hope alone again with her thoughts.

What was Stark up to, she wondered.

She stopped at a red light, staring into it blankly. And suddenly she had a need to see the prototype suit she and Hank were working on.   


 

“Dad, it’s me,” she said, entering the house.

As usual Hank was in the kitchen reading a newspaper. It was the one thing in the house not electronic, which she found endlessly ironic. His arm was still in a sling, even after almost nine months after it had been broken. Older people didn’t heal as fast and thinking about it now, it made Hope just the slightest bit sad.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

“Making sure you’re alive,” Hope replied sarcastically.

“Still alive,” Hank echoed.

Hope sat down in the seat next to Hank. He placed his paper on the dining table and looked at her.

“Something troubling you, Sport?” Hank asked.

Hope grinned, not having been called ‘Sport’ since she was six years old.

“So Scott’s daughter wants me to go with her to a school carnival on Friday,” Hope started.

Hank raised a brow, “Scott taking you?”

“Paxton is,”

“The cop?” Hank asked with slight confusion. Hope nodded. Hank chuffed.

“Scott too busy for her?” Hank queried.

Hope shrugged, “I have no idea, she just showed up with Paxton in my office today. Kinda funny, to see her all wide eyed with her hat in her hand,”

Hank smiled, picking up her paper again, “She’s a funny kid. Reminds me of you at that age,”

At that Hope frowned, but not from bitterness, rather annoyance, “How would you know? You sent me off at seven,”

Hank made a face, “So what, then the first six years didn't mean anything?”

Hope in turn chuffed, “Sure dad,”

“Well, why’d you stop by?” Hank asked, changing the subject.

“I wanted to take the suit,” Hope said.

Hank placed the paper back on the table. The question hung in the air for a moment, then Hank asked, “Why?”

“Stark called again,” Hope said flatly.

“And? He does that at least twice a week,” Hank said. “He called this morning asking if I wanted to golf,”

“I know but, he’s being oddly persistent,” Hope said, “I feel like he’s probing us. He could be trying to pin down the suits location by my phone or yours,”

“Where is this coming from?” Hank said, his tone soft.

“I just-I don’t want it falling into the wrong hands if something happens,” Hope explained.

Hank looked at Hope long and hard. She gulped nervously as he stared her down.

“I’ll let you have the suit,” Hank said, “But if there’s something wrong, I want you to tell me first,”

Hope shook her head, “It’s just in case,”

Hank rolled his shoulders, “Okay, I trust you, Hope.”

Hank stood, collecting his paper. He motioned for her to follow, “Excuse the workshop, I’ve made a few adjustments to the suit since the last time you’ve seen it,”

 

 

The elementary school Cassie attended was about as average as all the other elementary schools Hope had seen. But there was something quaint and innocent about it, she couldn’t help but feel energized. A small ire of jealousy stabbed Hope as she remembered all the stuck up boarding schools she’d been forced to attend. Public schools had carnivals and fairs. Private schools had galas and soirees. How many times had Hope wished she could just bite into a giant candied apple instead of learning which fork to use at dinner?

She’d met Paxton in the school parking lot, him having already dropped Cassie off inside to play with her friends while he waited for Hope.

“So why can’t Scott and Maggie take Cassie?” asked Hope as she and Paxton shuffled in line to the parent check-in.

“Maggie and Scott are renegotiating their custody situation,” Paxton answered.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, Maggs is giving Scott weekends, instead of alternating weekends, and holidays at her discretion,” Paxton said.

“That’ll be good for them, Cassie loves spending time with Scott,” Hope said.

“Yeah... she does,” Paxton mumbled.

Hope raised an eyebrow, deciding to let it slide. Paxton and Hope stepped up to the picnic table to check in.

“Hi,” a woman smiled, flashing bright white teeth. The volunteer was abnormally chipper and Hope chuckled at the off handed joke Paxton made about the young woman being high on something.

“Mr. and Mrs.?” the volunteer queried, posing her hand to jot down their names.

“Oh. She’s not-,” Paxton started.

“I’m-,” Hope awkwardly butted in.

“We’re-,” They said in unison.

The volunteer kept the huge smile on her face, but raised her eyebrow questioningly. She started over, “Who are you checking in for?”

“That’d be Cassie Lang,” Paxton answered.

The volunteer wrote down the girl’s name, “And you are her father?”

“Step-father, Jim Paxton,” he said.

“And you, miss?” The volunteer asked.

“Hope Van Dyne-,” Hope said stiltedly.

“Relation?”

“I’m,” Hope grasped for words, “I’m her God-mother…” Hope said with a confident nod and a not so confident tone of voice.

The volunteer nodded and wrote down her name anyways. She handed them both paper wristbands and talked about when and where to use them.The smiling volunteer handed Hope a strip of tickets, “These are for games and rides, if you need more there’s a booth inside where you can purchase another set. Have fun!”

Hope thanked the woman and waited for Paxton.

“Okay, Chipmunk’s gonna be somewhere inside the carnival already, last I saw her she was at the face painter,” Paxton said, looking over the barrage of screaming, running children and their parents.

“Hope!” Cassie said, running towards her, face freshly painted.

Cassie ran up, hugging Hope’s legs. Hope smiled and kneeled down to hug her. “Hey Cassie, you got your face painted?”

“Yeah I got a unicorn,” Cassie said, pointing to it.

“It looks good, sweetie,” Paxton said, smiling warmly at her.

“Thanks Jim,” Cassie said, with less enthusiasm.

Paxton seemed to deflate as Cassie ran back to her friends with Hope and her step-dad in tow.

Cassie had led the adults on an excursion, riding the ferris wheel, the mini roller coaster, and spinning ride. It was followed up by sugar, an exorbitant amount to be exact.

Now feeling recharged, Cassie met up again with her friends and decided to jump into the blow up bounce house. Hope had welcomed the break, sitting down with the rest of the parents in the rest area.

“Coke?”

Hope turned around, seeing the large styrofoam cups of iced soda in Paxton’s hands. She smiled gratefully and took one. “Thank you,”

Paxton sipped his drink, watching Cassie play.

“She’s very spirited,” Hope said.

“Gets it from her mom surprisingly,” Paxton informed, “Amazing kid. Smart, too. You should hear her give you her dissertation on unicorn economics,”

“She’s created an economy for magic horses?” Hope said, smiling behind the drink.

“Yeah, she loves doin' that stuff,” Paxton said, “I’d say she’s got a promising career as a writer,”

Cassie stumbled over, out of breath and sweaty. Paxton set his coke down, “Hey sweetheart, you have a good time?”

Cassie nodded, “Hope, did you see me, I was jumping really high!”

“Yeah I saw,” Hope said with a smile.

“I saw too, Cass,” Paxton chimed in.

Cassie bulldozed right past Paxton and continued on, “I wanna go ride the ferris wheel again with Erin and Julia, can I?”

“Ah- I dunno, Cass. Ask Paxton,” Hope said, turning to the man.

Cassie looked at him pointedly, Paxton shook his head. “Of course, kiddo, you want me to walk you over?”

“No. It’s okay, Erin’s daddy will,” Cassie said, regrouping with her friends.

Hope watched as Cassie scampered off, before turning to Paxton.

“Is it like that all the time?” Hope asked slowly.

Paxton shrugged, “Yeah, a lot of time,”

Hope made a face. Paxton scratched the back of his head, “It’s like, you push too hard, you drive her away and if you don’t push enough you drive her away,” he looked down at the ground, his eyes far away. “I just wanna be a good dad, but it’s hard to compete sometimes,” He rubbed his hands together. “You know she begged you to come because she didn’t wanna go with just me? She told me she liked you more,”

Hope was taken aback and then gently she smiled. She found herself patting Paxton on the back. “It’s not you, trust me. She’s just... _taking it out_ on you,”

Paxton raised an eyebrow, “You got kids, Hope?”

She shook her head, “No. But I do know what it’s like to not have a dad at such a young age. Hank-my dad- he was absent for a long time. After my mom died, he sent me to a boarding school so he didn’t have to deal with me,”

Paxton winced, “I’m sorry,”

“It’s whatever, you learn to get by. But I remember there were people in that school that honestly tried to make my life there not so bad. Good people. But I didn’t want them because they weren’t my dad,” Hope explained, “And I guess that's the deal with Cassie. She just misses Scott,”

Paxton smiled ruefully, “Does it get any easier?”

“Not really, just gets better,” Hope replied. “Once things settle she’ll realize she doesn’t have a good dad and another dad. She’ll have two good dads,”

“I like you, Van Dyne,” Paxton said.

“I have a certain fondness for you as well, Paxton,”.

And together they sat in a palpable silence, sipping coke and enjoying the evening.

  
  


Around eight o’clock, the festivities began to come to a close. Cassie was tired, barely able to keep her head up and her eyes open. Still, she insisted she could walk, especially since Hope had promised pizza.

“It's like crack to some kids,” Paxton said with a laugh as Cassie loaded herself into the car, sluggishly. “I know when I was a kid my dad used to use it to get me out of bed in the morning,” Paxton added.

“For breakfast?” Hope asked.

“Sometimes, yeah. We lived in New York before we moved out here and down the street from our apartment was this great pizza joint. Not there anymore, but man when my Pop's offered it, I all but jumped for it,” Paxton said with a nostalgic smile.

“I never had pizza until I was about ten. When I was little I liked hamburgers a lot better,” Hope said, “Plus out here in San Francisco, pizza is just...different,”. Hope spied Cassie, now awake but quiet, buckled in tight to the seat in Paxton’s compact Sedan.

“Hopefully she'll like this place,” Hope added.

“I'll follow, where do we park?”

“You'll see a place across the street,” Hope added.

Paxton nodded, getting into his car. Hope scampered off into hers. She made quick work of buckling herself in before she started the car.

Her body knew the route to the pizza place well, allowing her mind to drift once more. Even though she'd survived the night with Cassie, her instincts told her that the night wasn't over yet. She felt a tension build inside her, and almost jumped when her built in call system alerted her.

Again, it was Stark.

A sinking feeling materialized in Hope's stomach.

“Anthony?” she answered.

“Hope,” he answered evenly, “What cha’ up to, Short Stuff?”

Hope knew he was onto something, “Just on my way to grab pizza,”

“Oh good, you wouldn't mind grabbing me a large pepperoni and bell-peppers would you?”

“Sure, where do you want it delivered?” she snarked.

“How about Malibu? Then we can discuss a merger over it, maybe reminisce about our awful dads,”

“I know what you're doing, Tony,” Hope said flatly.

“Good, then you'll know that I'm very, _very_ interested in what you got in your back seat,”

Hopes hands gripped her steering wheel so hard her knuckles turned white, “How long you been following me?”

“Since you left your dad's house. Lost your signal for a little but tracked you on your way to- what is it- Louie’s? Wait- shit, now you're _actually_ gonna have to get me a pizza,” Tony said.

Hope snarled, “If you go anywhere near Hank-,”

“Hope, relax. Nobody's talking to your old man. Even if he wanted to, I wouldn't,” Tony assured, “I wouldn't play dirty,”

“Funny, your calendar girls beg to differ,” she quipped.

“Low blow, Van Dyne,” Tony said, Hope could practically see his smirk.

“Hope. I don't want to have to steal the suit from you, but I will if I need to,” Tony said calmly.

“Why do you want it so bad?” Hope asked, “I know why other people want it. Why do _you_ though, Tony?”

“If you'd answered any of the numerous calls and emails I've left, you'd know it's because it'd be safer with me,”

“We're fine, Stark.” Hope said curtly, “We were fine for years on our own,”

“This isn't just about you or me or anyone by themselves anymore. I don't know if you understand that by making that suit you're painting a target on your backs,” Tony explained.

“Is that it then, Tony? You're worried about me? So much so you're willing to take everything Dad abound I have,” Hope scoffed.

There was a long silence, and then, “You're the closest thing I have left to family besides Pepper and Rhodey. Life in a suit isn't what you want, regardless whether it's designer, or a spandex-cotton polymer blend,”

Hope smiled, in a small way because Tony even after all these years was still looking out for her. But her mind was made up.

“This isn't the hill you wanna die on. Tony I appreciate everything you've done for me. But I can make my own decisions,” She hung up.

 

 

About forty minutes later when she was in the restaurant with Paxton, she kept an eye on her car parked just off to the side of Louie’s Pizzeria.

The suit was safely stored away in Hope’s handbag, but that wouldn’t stop Tony or his lackeys from bugging her car or otherwise.

“This is good,” Paxton rumbled in between bites as he finished his slice.

Hope momentarily turned to Paxton and smiled, “Yeah, best in San Fran,”

Cassie nodded languidly, biting off a large piece and chewing at a luxuriously slow pace. “S’good,” She mumbled. Paxton laughed through his nose.

“Tired, Chipmunk?”

Cassie nodded and kept eating, “Pizza. Good,” she grunted.

Hope cracked a smile, “Cass, you can take some home too,”

“Yes, home, pizza,” she drawled.

A waiter came by and dropped off the bill.

Paxton wiped his hands, “I guess she’s ready to zonk out,” he reached for his wallet, “I’ll get the tab, then I’ll take her home,”

“What? No I got it, Paxton,” Hope said, pulling out her credit card, “Don’t even bother,”

Paxton raised an eyebrow, “Van Dyne, I don’t mind,”

“Seriously, I insist,” Hope said.

Paxton surrendered his hands, “Okay, but I’m definitely getting it next time. No if, and’s, or but’s ,”

Hope winked and placed her card inside the check presenter before closing it and placing it on the edge of the table for the waiter to collect. “I’m gonna use the restroom,” she said, standing.

“Can I come too-,” Cassie said, jolting to life.

Hope paused, “Ah-, yes, sure of course,”

Paxton made a face and nodded, “Okay Cass,”

The girl stood, sticking to Hope’s side.

Hope brought the little girl to the bathroom with her, allowing her to go first. Hope waited by the sinks, checking her email on her phone.

There were a few message notifications, some from Hank, some from work, and one from Pepper that was asking if she was free next weekend. But one particular message stuck out to her. It was from an unsaved number, one Hope didn’t recognize on top of that.

 

_Sent: Just Now_

_Look behind you._

 

Hope whipped around, just narrowly missing a fist reaching for her purse. Hope’s hand clamped over the arm. Her eyes traveled up to the face of a fair skinned, red-headed woman.

The woman smiled easily, “Hi,”

Hope elbowed her in the face and received a blow to the side of the head.

Falling back, Hope and the other woman were now separated by a few feet. Hope’s bag hung precariously off her shoulder.

“I’m gonna need what’s in that bag, obviously,” said the red-headed woman, standing up.

“Not on your-,”

“Hope?” came Cassie’s quivering voice, “What’s going on?”

Hope went wide eyed, she glanced at the stalls then back at the red-headed woman. Her face was calm, placid.

There was a flush of a toilet and Cassie emerged, her face was weary, “I heard fighting,”

“It’s-,”

“Your face!” Cassie said, pointing to the slowly forming bruise under Hope’s eye.

“Cas-,”

Cassie ran out of the bathroom. Hope breathed a sigh of relief, only to be tackled to the ground in the next breath. She felt a hand shoot up to her purse straps.

She locked one hand around her assailant’s wrist and the other on the woman’s ear. She gave a hard tug that wretched the woman’s head to the side. It was big enough opening for Hope to let go of the woman’s wrist and sink her fist into the other woman’s eye.

The red-head wrestled with Hope, getting her into a submission hold.

“Stark said you wouldn’t put up much of a fight,” said the red-head as she applied pressure to Hope’s neck.

“Stark doesn’t know everything-,”

Hope dug her nails into the red-head’s arm, she clenched her hand, sending an electric shock through the woman’s appendage. The red head let go and fell back to the floor. Hope scrambled to her feet, dragging her purse with her.

She shucked off her shoes and jacket as the red-head recovered.

“Who are you?” asked Hope.

The red-head stood, seemingly fully recovered from the sting of Hope’s palm tasers (courtesy of Hank).

“They call me Black Widow. Tony said you’re the new Wasp,”

“Tony? You know him personally,”

“Unfortunately,” Widow said, putting up her guard, “He’s a friend, I know him from work,”

“Likewise,” Hope launched a shoe at Widow that she dodged. The distraction wasn’t enough to turn her attention, but it was just enough for Hope to hightail it out of the bathroom and out into the restaurant.

Paxton was already crossing the restaurant floor towards the bathroom when Hope exited.

“Hope? Is everything-,” Paxton stopped dead in his tracks when he saw The Black Widow emerge from the bathroom. She raised her arm, at the end of it was a gun.

“Get down!” Paxton brought Hope down to the floor, nearly missing the bullet that fired off. The crowd in the pizza place scattered, stampeding out the door.

Hope had a second to recover before her assailant was on her again.

Paxton pulled Widow off of Hope. The Widow easily fended off Paxton, getting him to the ground. She watched them struggle for a moment and then scanned the area for Cassie. In the corner she saw the little girl shoot up from under a table and charge Widow.

“Get off my step-dad!” Cassie cried, hitting the woman in a feeble attempt to protect her father. The Widow let go of Paxton, turning her attention to Cassie.

Hope snagged the suit from the spilled contents of her bag. She clutched a plate on the floor and hurled it at Widow, getting her attention.

“You want this?” Hope asked, holding up a black bodysuit. “Come get it,”.

Hope took off out of the pizzeria to her waiting car. She unlocked the vehicle, and climbed in, starting it up from nothing. The Widow followed her, thrusting her fist through the driver side window.

Hope stepped on the gas, dragging The Widow with her.

Bobbing and weaving through San Francisco traffic, Hope made a sharp turn towards The Bay area. Above her she could hear the cracking of glass and faintly saw the outline of the redhead trying forcing her way into her passenger seat.

Hoping to shake The Widow off, Hope took another sharp turn and then stopped hard in a busy intersection. A car just narrowly missed her while another rear-ended her. The angry driver of the other car, exited and came around to the driver’s side to presumably yell at Hope.

“Lady what the fuck are you-,” The angry man had suddenly seized up, his face contorted in pain as he fell to the ground.

Hope, bewildered, got out of the car; taking the black bodysuit with her.

“Spider Bite,” said Widow, jumping down from the car’s roof. Hope glanced at the man on the floor. “Also you’re crazy for driving into oncoming traffic,” said The Widow.

Hope simply shrugged in return.

“Give me the suit and we can call it a night,” The Widow said, raising her arm, fitted with what looked like an electrical pulse cannon.

“What does Stark want with it?” Hope asked,

“That’s classified,” answered the redhead.

“Well then it sounds like he’s shit out of luck,” Hope said taking off into the street.

“Oh hell…” Widow sighed, chasing after her.

 

 

Hope hurried as fast as she could through the streets. But barefooted as she was, she wasn’t getting anywhere very far or fast. 

 _I need to change,_ Hope thought as she heard the faster, thundering feet of The Black Widow close behind her.

Hope turned quickly, cutting down an alleyway between two apartment buildings. Hope ducked behind a few trashcans as she heard Widow slow her pace. Hope held her breath as her pursuer started knocking over trash cans.

Hope checked the palm tasers; she had two shots left.

Maybe if she was smart, she could-.

A light from the apartment building in front of her flipped on. An older woman emerged, shining down a flashlight.

“What are you doing down there,” said the woman in a nasally voice.

Hope looked, The Widow stopped cold. She turned around, “I’m just-,”

 

“-Are you that Karen girl looking for Jonah?”

“No, I’m-,”

“Jonah’s not here and you may not look through his trash cans. That is illegal, Missy,”

“Ma’am I’m not-,”

“I’m calling the cops, you better hightail it out here before-," 

“Okay, I’m leaving,” said The Widow.

“That’s right, get out of here,” Said the woman, shining her flashlight down on the younger woman until she disappeared around the corner.

 

Hope shot up from behind her cover, darting out of the alleyway and back out onto the street.

The Widow followed.

  


Hope managed to get back to her apartment.

Her phone, which she had miraculously held onto during the fight, was cluttered with notifications. She scrolled through them as she checked down the hallways of her apartment. When she was satisfied, she locked her door and retreated to her bedroom. A list of voicemails stared at her.

She played the first one as she changed into her suit.

“Hope, it’s Paxton, Cassie is safe, we’re back home. What happened? Call me back as soon as you can. There’s an APB out that woman who shot up the restaurant,” the message ended there. Hope played the next one.

“It’s Tony, again. I hope I didn’t scare you too much. I’m sorry Short Stuff, but this is my last resort. If we can’t get through maybe Agent Romanov can. Nat’s a real completionist, just like you. I’m sure you’ll get along great-,” Hope glared at her phone, and then played the next message. It was Hank.

“Hope? Where are you. You aren’t picking up your phone. A S.H.I.E.L.D agent was here, she was asking for you. Is the suit safe-,” The message cut off. Hope’s blood ran cold.

The sound of glass shattering spike a shot of adrenaline through Hope’s veins. She ran out to her living room and was greeted with Agent Romanov, standing tall.

“Give me the suit, Van Dyne. Last chance,” said The Widow.

Hope aimed her wrist cannon at Romanov, her face was dark.

“Where is Hank?”, she growled.

“He’s fine,” came The Widow’s steely reply, “I can’t say the same for you if you don’t hand over the suit,”

“You want it,” taunted Hope, “Come get it-,”

Hope tossed the black bodysuit into Romanov’s arms.

Romanov caught the suit in her arms, turning to catch Hope shrink to the size of a pinhead. Romanov sighed.

She tried to duck, only to be blindsided as Hope grew to full size and threw her over her shoulder.

Hope dropped on top of The Widow, reeling back fist. Romanov blocked Hope’s fist and wretched Hope’s arm to the side. She leaned in for a head butt, but by that time Hope had shrunk yet again.

“So how long you known, Tony?” Romanov said, backing herself up against a wall.

“A long time, our parents were friends,”. Romanov could hear Hope’s voice in front of her and then listened as it drifted to the side. “Emphasis on _‘were’,_ ” Hope added.

The Widow laughed through her nose, despite herself. On the wall she saw the shadow of a vaguely woman shaped figure with wings. “Tony didn’t tell me you knew how to fight,”

“Like I said, he doesn’t know everything,”. Faintly, Romanov heard the charging of a weapon. She dove in the opposite way of the shadow. Narrowly she missed a pulse from Hope’s wrist canons, evident by the burn in the wall. What followed sounded somewhat like a curse and Romanov found it just the slightest bit humorous.

“So you work for him or something,” asked Hope from somewhere in the room.

The Widow shrugged, “I work _with_ him. We did some stuff in New York a few years back, it was on the news. More recently in Sokovia,”

Hope hummed in response, Romanov heard her buzz closer. “Yeah I saw. So you guys got a club,is that what that is, all of you guys? Going around, saving the world...”

“Yeah, we’re looking for new members too,” offered Romanov.

“I just gotta sign my rights to all my property and work away to Stark right,” said Hope sardonically.

“He’s just worried about you,” replied The Widow trying to pinpoint Hope’s location. “Plus, no woman’s an island,”

“See me in a board meeting and say that again,” Hope quipped.

“You think a wasp can beat a spider?” asked Romanov, searching for Hope’s fluttering of wings.  

“Of course, you ever seen a Tarantula Hawk?” came Hope’s reply. “Nasty things,”

Natasha smiled. “I like you, Hope. When this is all over I think you should really think about joining the Avengers. We need someone to reign in Tony’s ego,”

“Thanks-,” said Hope growing to full size right in before The Widow’s eyes, “But I think I’ll have to pass on that deal.”

Hope threw a punch, which Romanov caught securely in her fist. From behind the helmet’s visor, Hope smiled and sent an electrical pulse directly into arm. The Black Widow groaned in pain as she fell to the floor.

“Now-,” started Hope.

From the floor Romanov sunk her foot into Hope’s abdomen. She shot up from her horizontal position and gripped a wing of the suit. With ease Romanov ripped the wing free from the suit and jumped out the window she’d broken.

Hope stood in stunned silence for a second before cursing to herself under her breath.

She sighed and disengaged her helmet. Despondently she walked back to her bedroom and lied herself flat on the bed.

Her phone rang again, she picked it up without looking.

 

“Hello?”

“Hope? Are you okay? Cassie and Paxton told me everything. Hank said you weren’t picking up-,” It was Scott.

Hope nodded, even though she knew Scott couldn’t see. “I’m fine-,”

“Where are you?”

“My apartment,”

“Stay right there, I’m coming over-,”

“No. Don’t-,”

Her words were met with a short beep and then nothing. Hope rolled her eyes. Getting up, she started to shrug out of her suit. Hope took a look around her apartment and grabbed broom.  
  


Natasha arrived at Tony’s house some few hours later, looking a little worse for wear.

Tony smirked seeing Natasha’s face.

“Short Stuff’s got a mean left hook don’t she?” he asked, leading Natasha inside.

“Southpaw?” Natasha asked, sitting down at Tony’s bar.

“No,” Tony said pouring himself a drink, “When she used to box in high school she trained her left side so that she could stun someone with a one-two and then finish ‘em off with her right,”. Tony took a long swig of his drink and smiled, “Her dad used to call it a ‘Wasp Sting’.”

Natasha scoffed, “You told me she was untrained,”

“I mean I hadn’t seen her do it since high school,”

Romanov rolled her eyes, “That’s not ‘untrained’,Tony. Did you get the footage you needed?”

“Yep,” said Tony producing a tablet with the footage from the fight. Natasha unhooked the body came from her chest and set it down on the bar top. “Impressive tech Hank’s got,” Tony added. 

Natasha nodded. She handed the wing to Tony.

He smiled once more, “Now let’s see what you been up to, Short Stuff…"

“So she just got in and trashed the place?” asked Scott, sweeping up a pile of broken glass.

Hope nodded.

“You nearly gave me a damn heart-attack,” Hank said, looking over the broken suit. “I thought you said you weren’t in any danger,”

Hope threw up her hands in exasperation. “Well better I had it than that S.H.I.E.L.D agent taking it from you, right?”

Hank made a face, holding up the suit for him to see. Besides the usual wear and tear the only thing that had really been torn were the wing attachments. Hank nodded and set it down, “Alright, well I guess we got work to do, Kiddos.”


	2. Stark's Day Off, 1979-2016

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's a more heavily Tony and Hope fic. I like writing their interactions because in my head-cannon, Hope and Tony are like siblings. Plus their stories are also complimenting a little, like Tony lost both his parents but is this social butterfly with issues about himself. Hope now has both her parents, is a little more reserved, and has issues with her dad (which can also be "self"). And I dunno, they got good chemistry. I promise I'll update with actual Scott/Hope eventually. 
> 
> Also the timeline in movies for this fic: Iron Man 1, Avengers 1, Avengers 2, Ant-man, Civil War

The week right before Thanksgiving, Tony Stark hears his mom screaming in the living room. 

The curious fourteen year old pads downstairs to see his mom-to his relief-in what looks like happy bliss as she talks vibrantly over the phone with someone. He can hear screaming, faintly, on the other end as well.

“Oh my god, Janet I’m so happy for you!” Maria Stark looks over at her son and waves him over, “Honey, honey, Aunt Janet is pregnant!” 

Tony Stark is indifferent, only because he’s fourteen and it’s not his baby, but he smiles anyways and speaks with a happy inflection as his mom passes him the phone and his Aunt Janet starts telling him of the good news herself. 

Just as school lets out in May, Tony is picked up by his parents. There’s a baby shower they’re attending at the behest of Janet and Maria lets on some surprising news.

“Aunt Janet is having a girl,” Maria says with delight. And Tony knows she’s excited because she’s always wanted a girl. 

Again, Tony nods with a smile. His mom gushes over the baby as if it were Tony’s sister. He lets her because he thinks it’s funny. And a little part of him is excited as well. Mainly because with a new baby around, people might finally get off his ass.

* * *

On the hottest day of the August in San Francisco, Tony Stark waits patiently in the living room of The Pym’s. Hank and his wife lived in a considerably smaller house than the Starks, but rumor has it that Hank’s basement lab is twice the size of the house that sits on it.

“Tony can you stop tapping, please? It’s grating,” drolls Howard Stark. 

Tony stops and sighs a little. He stares at the TV as it plays some black and white musical and waits to hear the sound of the key slipping into the lock and the cacophony of voices that will follow it. 

In a rare display of friendship and peace, Hank asked Howard of all people, to watch the house and be the first ones there to see the baby. Tony finds it laughable, since anyone that knows the relationship between the two knows that on a  _ good day _ , Hank and Howard aren’t on speaking terms. But there’s a little bit of something to admire that Howard was not only being nice, he was being genuinely happy for Hank. 

Tony figured that was just the magic of babies, bringing people together. 

“You should bring a baby to your next business meeting, dad. It’d be a good way to seal a deal,” Tony says, still staring at the TV. Howard snorts, finding his son just a little funny. Tony takes it over the usual stone-cold silence.

Maria comes into the living room just then with a tray of snacks and water. “I think they might want something, they’ve been up for hours,”

Howards raises his brows in an unbothered way, “Did Janet have the C-Section?” 

Maria nodded, “She said the incision is healing well,”

Tony hums good naturedly and it's almost as if it’s a magic phrase, because Hank and Janet enter the house not a moment after. 

Maria smiled wide as Janet hobbles into the house, slightly sore from doctors cutting open her abdomen just a few days earlier. Hank follows suit, cradling a bundle. 

Howard gets up to help Janet with the bags as Maria comes to greet hank and the baby.

Well, Hope. 

He smiles wide at Hank, being almost a little happy to see him. He hasn’t seen Hank face-to-face since he was about ten, but he has enjoyed the steady stream of holiday gifts and countless tours of workshops (via interns and employees) and letters about on atomic theory. 

Hank smiles back just the same, “Tony, you’ve gotten tall,”

Tony waves him off, flattered,  and looks down at the kid as his mother does, “She’s beautiful, Hank”

“Thank you,” Hank replies dreamily. 

The party makes it to the couch with everyone surrounding the coffee table and talking all at once. 

“She looks like a jelly bean,“ Maria coos, “I just wanna eat her up,” 

Janet is quiet, but beaming at her daughter, all the while holding Hank’s hand. Tony feels a sting of nostalgia as he watches the new happy family. He wonders if there was a time that his own parents were like that with him.

Tony gets a good look at Hope and half smiles at the little thing in Hank’s arms. Freckled like a keebler elf, with a tuft of dark hair on her head, Hope seemed to have taken after her mom. 

Good thing too, Tony thought, because while he father’s a brilliant man, it was safe to say his wife was (looks wise) out of his league. 

They leave the happy couple alone with their new addition for the night, giving them some time to decompress. The next time Tony sees Hope she’s a few months old, able to hold her head up by herself and respond to Tony’s voice.

* * *

 

The next time seems to be his last as Hank and Howard get into their usual tiff and Maria and Janet are disapproving of it but stick by their husbands during this time. 

And through it all Tony doesn’t think much of it and continues on with his life, not giving a second passing thought to little baby Hope.

* * *

 

Christmas 1985, Tony Stark and Howard get into a fight at The Pym House. 

Howard and Hank had reconciled the year before, after five years of silence. Apparently, Hank had been lonely since Janet left more frequently on business trips. Tony assumed she was either cheating on him or busy reporting to the Russians. And he let Hank know as much.

Drunk, freshly twenty-one, and looking for something to fight about, Tony pulls something lewd from his Rolodex of petty insults. Hank’s face turns into one of anger, but then mellows to something closer to pity.

“Tony, sit down. You’ve had a lot to drink,” Hank says.

“I don’t know why you’re being so nice to the kid, Hank,” Howard says, rising from his place on the couch, “-are those the manners we’re paying for from MIT?”

Tony sneers, “No, these are the manners I earned on  _ scholarship _ ,” he downs the rest of his whiskey in hand, “Which you would have known, had you been at my welcoming ceremony,” 

Howard’s eyes narrow, “Anthony. Apologize to Hank, now,”

Tony rolls his eyes, “Too late,” Tony slurs, backing further away from his dad. “You’re about ten years too late. You weren’t there when I needed you, so don’t try to be now. Don’t try to be a dad now.” 

Howard’s stone face resolve crumbles and he relents. It’s Christmas, he reminds himself, and there’s no reason to get into it right now, “Son-,” he reaches for Tony, but the young man backs away.

Howard’s face looks as if he’s been shot. He does nothing but stares at his son and then, as if accepting Tony’s words, he sits down with his head hung low. Tony brushes him off and lumbers off upstairs for a place to sleep. He’s only vaguely aware of Hank comforting him as he climbs the stairs. 

In the dimly lit halls of the San Francisco home, Tony stumbles around. 

He hears a door creak open and a little person-no taller than his waist-peeks out. 

His brow furrows and he raises an eyebrow, “Who are you?”

A little girl emerges, with big hazel eyes and lopsided pigtails. She stares up at Tony with something that looks like recognition. “My name’s Hope,”

A light bulb goes off in Tony's head and he remembers a pink, squishy thing bundled up in a blanket. He gets down on one knee to see her properly. 

At this age, she’s a mini Janet, freckles and eyes and all (save for the dark locks of Hank's hair). If Tony didn’t know any better he would have thought she was cloned. He chuckles to himself, not noticing the frowning girl in front of him. 

“What?” she barks, when Tony’s laugh gets a little out of hand. 

“You just look like your mom,” he says simple enough, “It’s just eerie,”

“What does that mean?” Hope asks.

“Means scary. But not too scary,” He holds out his hand, “I’m Tony,” 

Hope puts her hand in his and shakes, “Do you like horses, Mr. Tony?”

“It’s just Tony, and no,” He says.

Hope purses her lips and then tugs his hands, “You wanna look at other stuff?”

He shrugs, having nothing better to do.

 

He spends the next few hours letting Hope explain the dichotomy of her toys and stuff in her room. Tony sees now how she resembles her father. She must have taken a note from Hank’s lectures because she describes how her hobby horse works almost exactly how Hank describes atomic theory.

“See then you just lean forward,” Hope says, getting on the pink horse, “An’ then you lean back and it rocks, like this,” she said for emphasis, as if Tony had no goddamn clue how a hobby horse worked. 

Tony laughs, entertained by the sheer fervor she describes the intricate workings of her toys with. But he’s also mildly impressed with what a sharp kid she is for five years old. 

Hope gets off her horse and walks around her room looking for more stuff to show Tony. She tugs at something sandwiched between two boxes and tugs with all her might. The boxes fall to the floor with a thud and a rattle and Tony gets to his feet, still wobbly from the alcohol. He bends down to pick up the box, and with his double vision, manages to find out she has a chess set.

“Hey Freckles, you wanna play?”

She looks at him confused, “I don’t know that game, “

“It’s fine. I can teach you,” Tony says.

She shrugs and sits down. Tony opens the box and sets up the board. He picks up a pawn and slides it back and forth over the checkerboard. “So the pawn moves like this,” he says.   
  


 

A few hours later, Howard and Hank find their kids passed out in Hope’s room, a game of chess strewn all over the floor, along with a half finished game of Dream Phone, and other things. Hank grins, amused. Howard looks more or less guilty. 

“Let’s get our babies into bed,” Hank jokes. 

Howard laughs through his nose and nods.    
  


 

When Maria hears what happens she's not pleased. But Howard for the first time tells  _ her _ to be easy on Tony. 

In the snowy car ride home, Tony sleeps, knocked out cold from the liquor. Maria, despite Howard's best efforts, still fumes. “If he knew what Janet was doing out there everyday, just so he could live in this country and go to school-,” 

“That's the thing, Maria. Tony  _ doesn't  _ know, and for Pym’s sake, we're gonna keep it that way”. Howard laughs softly, “You're starting to sound like your dad,” he says

Maria rolls her eyes, “Well you're starting to sound like your mom, excusing that kind of behavior…” 

“Hank knows Tony only said those things about Janet to get a rise out of me,” says Howard, “Doesn't mean we’re gonna let that slide. I'll talk to him about it,” 

Maria is quiet, but then says, “How long is this going to continue, Howie?” 

“Probably through grad school,” Howard says easily. “Boy don’t mature as fast as girls,”

“That's not what I mean,” Maria mumbles. “I'm no rube. And Janet didn't tell me either. So don't you go yelling at her...I know, Howie. About what you're doing...”

Howard glances over at his wife, “Maria...I'm don't ever want to involve you and Tony in what we're doing. That's why I keep you in the dark,”

“You keep us in a closet. Tony might not know now, because he's too busy being angry with you. But what happens when he outgrows that? It won't take him long to figure out. He's angry ready suspicious of these ‘overseas’ buyers you mention.” Maria said plainly. 

Howard sighed, “We'll cross that bridge when we get to it. Let's just...enjoy what's left of the holiday, alright?” 

“Alright…”

* * *

 

September, 1987 is a year Little Hope never forgets, even when she grows into Big Hope and eventually just Ms. Van Dyne.

First there's dad, with a blackened eye and stitches. It's three in the afternoon and though he tries to hide it, he's dead inside.

Hope prides herself on intuition, but it's not like much is needed. The fact that the door opens and the absence of her mom's signature  _ click-click _ if heels is enough to tell her that she's not home. Or rather,  _ didn't come home. _

Even at seven years old, Hope knew what was going on, rather, she knew the gist. But she asked anyways, as if that would magically make her mom appear. 

It didn't.

Instead what followed were years of silence and pent up anger that she took out on the walls and windows of her home. Eventually, her father moved her into a boarding school, because business trips prevailed over her once again. And though she felt guilty, secretly she hoped he'd disappear on one of his trips too.

The years added up and the hurt faded, but nothing healed. Hope began going by her mother's maiden name, in an effort to preserve a legacy and thought, even though that it hurt, she'd never have to grieve like this again…

That was, until Tony lost both his parents.

* * *

 

August, 2001 was the year Hope had turned twenty one and graduated early (only by a year though, Tony teased).

Her father and her had been on non speaking terms for years, fitting, as Hank always pushed everyone away (but admittedly you helped with that, Tony said).

She celebrated graduation with a bottle of wine she purchased-legally, she happily announced to the cashier- and went home to soak in the tub. She hadn't much of of a social life, no boyfriends, no  _ friends  _ for that matter. She studied hard to get out of school as fast as she could.

And now she was finished. Question was, what was next?

That’s when she met Cross. 

Tony feels an instant dislike for the man the moment Hope introduces them. Darren Cross looks at everyone in the room as if he plans to skin them and make lampshades. More succinctly, Cross is one creepy motherfucker. 

Hope though expresses a little fondness for the man. “Hank likes him and he’s okay if you get past the whole… well you know,” she trails off. “Plus he’s Hank’s new apprentice, so I guess I  _ have _ to get to like him, right?”

“You don’t have to  _ anything _ , Short Stuff,” Tony says. “He’s weird as hell and you know it. I know Hank isn’t great with people but where did he find this guy?”

Hope shrugs and swishes the vodka around in her glass, “It was this program, Cross wasn’t the best, but Hank said he reminded him of himself. I guess he thinks he’ll be a good addition to his team,”

“Funny how he skipped right over you,” 

“Yeah but what’s new?” Hope finishes her glass and sets it down with a soft  _ thump _ . “It’s late, I think I’m gonna go home, “ 

“I’ll hail you a cab?” Tony asks.

“Yes, thank you,” Hope says rubbing her temples.

 

He sends her home then decides to crawl into bed himself, barely registering his new secretary listing off his itinerary for tomorrow. 

“I’m sorry, what’s your name again?” Tony says, cutting her off mid-sentence. 

“Ah-what?” the secretary asks, taken aback.

“I forgot your name, I’m sorry I’m terrible with them,” Tony replies. 

“Virginia. Virginia Potts,” the secretary answers. 

“Virginia, you work way too hard. It’s nine at night, you should be home,” Tony says plainly. 

Virginia nods, “I see, apologies-,”

“No-no, it’s fine,” Tony cuts in, “I just wanted to make sure you knew you don’t have to babysit me,” 

Virginia again nods and smooths out her skirt, “I’ll-um-let you get to bed then,” she says awkwardly. “I’ll see you tomorrow,”

Tony watches her leave and when she’s out of the driveway and down the street, he calls up Rhodey.    


“Yeah it’s me I made it home in one piece. Get this, Hank’s got a new protege...Oh yeah Freckles seems a little miffed but when is she not? Oh-the secretary? Eh, she’s a little stuffy. When they hired her I was thinking she was gonna be some forty-year old mom.  _ Virginia _ ? I gotta get her a snappier nickname,”

* * *

 

In the Fall of 2008 Tony makes it back home from what was quite possibly; the  _ worst _ overseas trip he’d ever taken. And that’s putting it lightly. 

The glowing reactor in his chest seems to agree. 

He’s flooded by calls and emails and well-wishes, but there is one he’s thinking of the most. 

At exactly nine in the morning, the day after he returns, he sees an email from Hope Van Dyne in his inbox. It’s sent with the Pym Technologies letterhead, wishing him well and all the nice and neat cordial greetings. It’s empty and vapid and Tony finishes reading it in seconds and waits on what he knows is next.

“Phone call for you on line one, Mr. Stark. It’s Ms. Van Dyne,” Says Pepper on the phone.

“Patch her through, Pep,” Tony replies. 

There is a short beep and then, “Tony! Oh my god-,”

Tony grins, “Hey Short Stuff,”

* * *

 

July of 2012 brings New York to its knees.

Tony goes home a little beaten, a little bruised; but on the whole he has saved the day. 

He goes home that night to the waiting arms of his secretary/tentative girlfriend. Well girlfriend is probably her official title now, along with CEO of Stark Industries. 

He lies in bed with pain medications and a bag of chips. Bed rest, on doctor’s orders (but the doctor is in Pepper’s pocket so is he really the authority on that?). Lazily he scrolls through his phone, checking his Twitter or Instagram or whatever social media app Pepper has him signed up for for “PR” allegedly. 

He hates bed rest, but hates more the sheer boredom. 

Plus, not being able to sleep without having nightmares is shitty too .

After three weeks, Pepper takes him to see a specialist. 

(The scratches on his arms and hers, the late nights, the crying, Pepper wants to help Tony).

They diagnose him with PTSD, he’s prescribed pills and drugs. They work for a little, but then Tony hates how drowsy he feels, how slow they make his brain work. He tosses them and goes back to his usual ways. 

Life almost settles back to normal, until he hears some whispers about the new CEO of Pym Technologies (Darren Cross) and The COO (Short Stuff).

First they’re dating, then they’re engaged, then they’re voting off Hank from The Board. Only the last of those proves to be true and for some reason it makes Tony suspicious (and maybe even a little mad, if he’s honest).

“You trying to undercut you dad, Hope?” Tony asks a little more accusatory than he wants to sound. It’s a Friday night, Hope is still in the office. 

Hope, by this time has settled very rigidly into the character of Ms. Van Dyne.Tony partially blames Creepy Cross for that. A slow but evident change has happened to Hope. Tony is one hundred percent positive he hates it. And Hope won’t even tell him that his opinion doesn’t matter, instead she tells him that she ‘respectfully disagrees’. It’s like he barely knows her. 

“Anthony, did you have a real question?” asks Hope.

“That is a real question, Hope what are you doing?” 

“What’s best for my company,” She replies.

“So voting your dad off the board is what’s best? Be honest did Cross put you up to this?”

Hope makes a sound of disgust, “Cross has no influence on my decisions. I make my own. You’ve seen the headlines, Anthony. Hank isn’t doing us any good firing everyone who’s trying to forward Cross’s ideas. He’s making it a personal vendetta against any employee who he’s had a falling out with or sides with someone he doesn’t like,” 

“Have you ever considered that Cross’s ideas are shit?” Tony offered.

“If they are, why are Cross’s subordinates paying for it?” Hope questions. 

“Maybe he’s trying to save them,” Tony shrugs. “I’m sure Hank would be a lot nicer. Pink slips and you’re out. Not like Cross who’d probably make someone’s whole family  _ disappear, _ ”

“Of course you’d say that,” Hope mumbles. 

“What?”

“You’re always trying to make excuses for that old man,” Hope answers, “I thought you of all people would understand what I have to deal with,” 

“My dad wasn’t like yours, Hope,”

“You’re right. He wasn’t. So don’t try to tell me what to do with my dad,” Hope hung up, leaving Tony feeling less than satisfied. 

The next week Pym Technologies take Stark Industries off their contact list. There’s a short email about how the new direction Pym Tech wants to take doesn’t line up with Stark Industries’s goals. Tony gets to the very bottom of the email and sees it’s signed by Cross, not Hope.

Tony frowns.

* * *

 

In August 2015, following yet another world saving mission, Tony watches the building of Pym Technologies implode into itself. 

He stares at it with mild shock and intense fascination. And this is coming from a man who dropped a literal city out of the sky sixteen hours ago. He calls up Hope, because of course he does. 

He doesn’t care that they haven’t spoken in nearly three years, or that he was  _ technically _ right about everything. 

He just wants to make sure Short Stuff is safe, and that he’s here. 

What follows are numerous phone calls, meetings, and emails to Pym Tech. Tony wants to buy over the company. Pepper warns him about personal space. Tony ignores her. Pepper tells him she’ll tell Hope he said ‘hi’. 

“Wait, what?” Tony asks, following his girlfriend to the door. 

“I said I’ll tell her you said-,”

“You’re talking to Hope?”

Pepper rolls her eyes, “Tony, I told you. Hope and I talk. I mean, we run businesses in similar industries,”

“Yeah but you  _ talk  _ to her regularly, apparently, you're having dinner together,” Tony says, his voice adopting a childish whine. Tony pouts for a second then says, “Hey you think you can get me in with her-,”

“-Oh here we go. This is exactly why I didn’t-,”

“-C’mon Pep, I’ll be your best friend, just get me in a meeting with-,”

“Tony. No, I-,”

“Pretend it’s you, when she gets there it’ll actually be me-,”

“-She’s not interested in-,”

“-I’ll hide in a cake. Like those strippers do for-,”

“-Pepper c’mon, it’s Short Stuff, she won’t be mad  _ forever, _ ”

“You’re not-,”

“Hope needs me, Pepper. I’m serious-,”

Pepper forms her mouth into a hard line. She grabs Tony’s face in her hands and looks at him pointedly. “Tony. I know you’re worried about her. But she needs space. She needs her family right now,”

Pepper’s hands drop from Tony’s face. He gathers her hands in his. “Am I not family?”

* * *

 

May, 2016 is the month he realizes she's the little sister he’s never had.

That’s why he can’t seem to let her just be. But he tells himself that even if she is Short Stuff, she’s also an adult. She’s also her own person. She can handle herself. 

Part of him worries for her, as any big brother would. 

But selfishly he has to admit, he’s more worried about her because of what Hank’s cooking up. 

The twenty-five-foot man from the airport tells Tony all he needs to know. Maybe he’s the new Cross, though considerably not as conniving. 

Sitting there on the couch, pride and ribs broken, he can’t help but imagine Hope in this situation. Rhodey may never walk again on his own. 

He couldn’t stomach even the image of Hope like that. He couldn’t bare to think of her in anyway that wasn’t her confident, in control self. That’s why he’d signed those papers in the first place wasn’t it? So that everyone could go home to happy and safe loved ones. So that others would never have to live these realities…

* * *

 

August, 2016

“Hope, I know we haven’t been speaking for a long time. I know it’s not my place to tell you about your dad or what or how you should be doing things. I know that I’ve been pushy and I know that you’re not a kid anymore and...I know a lot of shit, alright? But let’s not talk about who knows what. I want to tell you I’m sorry. It wasn’t fair of me to just bowl into your life like I did, like I always do. I just-You’re family. And these days I don’t have much of that left. I’ll leave you alone if that’s what you want. But I’m never more than a phone call away, you got it?”

Tony leaves the message, feeling some sense of relief when he finishes. 

He knows she’ll hear it, he just doesn’t know if she’ll respond. He supposes he can only hope. 

A few months later, Hope responds. It’s a short message, there’s a lot of noise in the background, so Tony strains to hear what she’s saying.

“...I know, Tony” she says, her voice pierces through the noise. 

By the end of it, Tony is smiling, beaming even. 

His mind and his soul rests easy, knowing that his Short Stuff knows he’s always there for her. 

And just three hours away-in a shrinkable lab in downtown San Francisco- Hope smiles too. 


End file.
